


Deviate

by ssa_archivist



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, M/M, episode-related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-20
Updated: 2004-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-01 10:22:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/355550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      Resistance is futile. I did not want to write this, but it wouldn't go away, so I gave it a couple hours and I feel much better now. Multitudinous thanks to Eli, for the real-time beta and everything else.
    </blockquote>





	Deviate

**Author's Note:**

> Resistance is futile. I did not want to write this, but it wouldn't go away, so I gave it a couple hours and I feel much better now. Multitudinous thanks to Eli, for the real-time beta and everything else. 

## Deviate

by tynantblue0162

<http://livejournal.com/users/tynantblue0162>

* * *

Disclaimers: I would take much better care of them if they belonged to me. 

* * *

It happens every time he closes his eyes. No pain, just detached memories shocked into blinding focus like someone threw a switch. His throat convulsing on dry screams, bloody lips sticking to sanitized rubber, the empty shadow that called itself his father standing guard as his eyes rolled back in their sockets. 

Even here, his chin resting gently on worn cotton instead of immobilized in black, he can't get a moment's peace. He tries a smile, carefully fitting his lips into the unfamiliar shape, stopping short when new scars threaten to split open again. The pain is familiar and bright, and he expects to see institutional grey when he opens his eyes. 

Instead, he's hit by a confusing rush of color and space and light, and it's only a heartbeat before the anger floods through him. Here is everything he'd fought to get back to, this lush world of texture and motion, everything that had kept him climbing while his palms tore and bled. 

All that desperation wasted, because this world is just as dead to him as the other. It's all fading quickly out of focus, dying around him in the wake of one last lie, and he tightens his arms around the boy who had been his last hope. 

Clark's breath hitches in his ear, and he realizes Clark is vibrating against him. 

"Clark?" 

Clark pulls away suddenly, head drooping, wiping furtively at his cheeks, fingertips hidden under the dark fall of his hair. 

Lex watches him wrestle with the decision, and hates him for it. 

He turns back to the fire. He's seen this enough times to know how it ends. Clark's lips will smile, a dazzling distraction from the real truth. Clark's shoulders will shrug and his boots will leave crumbs and his tear-wet fingers will slip hesitantly against Lex's palm, threading their way between his own fingers and squeezing, and it takes him a moment to catch up to this deviation from the script. He's had too many dreams like this, dreams that came true with a wrenching groan of steel and a shy smile flashing in dingy light. He can't let himself trust the warmth seeping into his wounded skin. 

Lex looks down at their joined hands, bewildered and questioning, confused and wary, because this is either merciful cruelty or awful hope burning through him, and his throat constricts the word into a whisper. 

"Clark?" 

The boy shakes his head, eyes wide and near panicked with relief. He smiles then, and pulls Lex toward the door. 

"I have some things to tell you, Lex," he says. "But not here." 

* * *

It's quiet and green the way it was that day, but this time he's prepared for the Earth to move. His hand still locked in that solid promise, Lex stands and listens as Clark changes his life for a third time. 

* * *


End file.
